


Please Please Me

by BlossomsintheMist



Series: Steve/Tony Kinktober 2017 [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Bottom Steve, Bottom Steve Rogers, Come Swallowing, Consensual Kink, Dom Tony, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Finger Sucking, Kinktober, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Sub Steve, Sub Steve Rogers, Teasing, Top Tony, Top Tony Stark, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomsintheMist/pseuds/BlossomsintheMist
Summary: Steve looked so beautiful flushed and wanting, on his knees, begging.Written for Day Four of Kinktober: Begging.





	Please Please Me

**Author's Note:**

> Translation into Chinese available [here](http://hailstony.actbbs.com/thread-5518-1-1.html)!

Steve looked so beautiful flushed and wanting, on his knees, begging.

Tony ran that thought back over in his head, thought it sounded a little like a supervillain, and felt himself go a little hot in the face, self-conscious at that, but—well, it was true.  Not like a supervillain would have thought it, but still. Steve was beautiful, kneeling naked on the floor, arms held tight behind him at the small of his back with the heavy duty cuffs Tony had made (magnetic, reinforced adamantium, padded against his wrists, Steve hadn’t even been able to _bend_ them when they’d tested them out, and Tony still felt a bit of a glow of pride at that), his eyes fluttering, glazed with pleasure and wanting, mouth slack and open so that his lips were wet with saliva, tongue pressed against the back of the bottom one like he wanted to say something as he moaned, panted, followed Tony’s dick with his mouth.

Tony wouldn’t let him have it, though, moved it away, out of his reach, giving himself a long, lingering stroke up from his balls over the tip that made him groan, even if it was mostly just from the look on Steve’s face, so beautifully, perfectly needy, open and sweet and lust stricken in the best way, like his mouth was fucking watering just from seeing Tony touching himself.

“Please, Tony,” Steve moaned, all hoarse and low and scratchy, pushing up with his hips as if it would give him some kind of friction on the hard, heavy cock knocking persistently against his body rather than just making it bounce, bounce and give Steve just that little bit of sensation that made his mouth go even more lax, made him make sounds like he was being punched in the back of his throat. “Please,” he said again, and leaned forward, rested his head against Tony’s knee, closing his eyes and turning his head in against the bony side of it.  His forehead felt sweaty, in that dewy, glowing from his pores way Steve had of perspiring, and Tony smiled a little at that, because sweating meant Steve was into it. “Let me suck your cock.”  It was low, soft, raspy, but not whiny, soft instead, like a statement of fact, of desire, despite the need heavy in it.

“I don’t know, babe,” Tony teased, low and drawling.  His voice was pretty sex-raspy itself, actually.  He shifted on the bed, let his feet slide down from where they’d been braced on Steve’s shoulders, keeping him back as he strained to get Tony’s dick in his mouth, and let them slide down to dangle over Steve’s back.  They’d never have been able to use this position on Tony’s lower bed, considering Steve’s impressive height—thank God for the high, old-fashioned four-poster still in Steve’s room in the mansion, right?  Tony let his hand slide down, stroked it over Steve’s damp hair, feeling it cling around his fingers.  Steve’s hair was so springy and soft, even sweat-damp as it was. Steve just moaned, squeezed his eyes tighter shut and pressed his cheek against Tony’s leg.

“Please, Tony,” he moaned.

“I don’t know if you’ve shown me how much you need it yet,” Tony told him, running the backs of his fingers down over Steve’s cheek, crisply velvety soft under his fingers even down to the jaw because Steve had just shaved before they started this, and glowing so hot with his flush that Tony would have sworn you could have boiled water with the heat of it, still holding his dick in his other hand, high against his stomach, out of Steve’s reach where the bed held him back.  Of course, Steve could just push himself up on his knees and lean in and pin Tony down, even bound as he was, and _take_ Tony’s cock into his mouth, but he wouldn’t, and Tony knew he wouldn’t.  That wasn’t the game they were playing here—most importantly, it wasn’t the game Steve _wanted_ to play.  (Though they could play that way another time, if Steve wanted; Tony would have enjoyed that, too.  Enjoyed that a lot.)

Steve whimpered, pressed his face tighter against Tony’s thigh, then raised his head, looked up at Tony with a sweet, needy, sex-dazed kind of determination.  “But I do need it,” he panted.  “I need it so much, need to taste you, need you in my mouth, Tony, sweetheart, please.  Please.” He licked his bottom lip, shifted on his knees.  “I can prove it to you, you’ll see.”

“How’re you gonna do that, stud?” Tony asked, and his voice came out a low, scratchy purr, even as he slid his fingers under Steve’s chin, along his jaw, lifted his face up toward him. “How are you going to show me, Steve?” He let his thumb drift up, ran it along under Steve’s bottom lip, then back, across the sweet, full give of it, saliva-slick and wet against Tony’s callused thumb.  Steve moaned again, his eyelashes fluttering, thick and blond against his flushed cheeks.

“Just give me a chance,” Steve panted, all breathy and soft, leaning forward so his chest pressed up against the bed.  “I promise it’ll be good, I’ll suck you so good, you can, you can just, just fuck my mouth, just shove it in, whatever you want.”

“That’s a pretty offer, for sure,” Tony said, in a playfully considering tone, even as need throbbed in his belly at those words in Steve’s sex-roughened voice.  He pushed his thumb down on Steve’s plush lower lip, feeling it give, Steve’s jaw relax and his lips parting and parting until Steve just let his mouth hang open, panting.  Tony slid his thumb between them then, against Steve’s tongue, and Steve moaned, closed his eyes and arched up into it so that Tony’s thumb pressed down harder against his tongue, so that it was pushed flat against the floor of his mouth.  Saliva slicked the corners of Steve’s lips, spilled over and left wet streaks along Steve’s skin, and wasn’t that a trip, seeing Steve kneeling there, drooling around Tony’s thumb he wanted his cock in his mouth so bad.  Tony just looked at him for a moment, until Steve was flushing, a little, his lashes flickering down as he looked down at the floor, and then Tony slid his fingers under Steve’s chin, a gentle little suggestion as he lifted his jaw.

Steve followed his lead, instantly, closing his mouth so soft and gentle around his thumb and sucking, looking up at Tony pleadingly through his eyelashes.  He sucked so sweetly, as if he could convince Tony to give him his cock if he sucked prettily enough.

“There’s a good boy,” Tony said, and Steve flushed, down over his chest, and ducked his head down again. “Now give me your tongue,” Tony told him, and Steve obeyed instantly, flicking his tongue against the nail, rubbing his tongue against the callused pad of his thumb and curling it around. Tony shivered at the feeling—it was surprising how erotic that could be—tightened his hand around his own dick, and Steve gave a low, hungry, needy groan, leaning forward again, not quite rubbing his cheek against Tony’s dick.  When Tony pulled his thumb back, out of Steve’s mouth, a string of glistening saliva following it, trailing from his nail to Steve’s wet, shiny mouth for a moment before Steve moaned and said in a low, broken tone, “Tony, please.”

“You beg so prettily,” Tony said, rubbing his wet thumb up over Steve’s cheekbone, leaving a smear of his own glistening saliva there, “and I’m a bad man, sweetie, damn if I don’t torture you, hold you off, just to hear you beg, no matter how good you are, no matter how sweet for me.”  He did like to hear Steve’s sweetly needy pleading, but that still wasn’t strictly true. But Steve _loved_ to be forced to beg for it, and watching Steve get off on it got Tony off, scratched that itch for him as he watched Steve writhe and moan for _him_ , desperate to do whatever Tony wanted.  Whatever Tony wanted, and it was the most overwhelming thought, just on its own—watching Steve actually doing it was incredible on an entirely different level.

“Do you like me sweet?” Steve mumbled, a hoarse, husky rasp a couple octaves lower than his normal register, dragged out over a gravelly throat, right out of his chest.

“Oh, I love you sweet,” Tony told him.  “Just look at you, so sweet and so needy for me.”  He rubbed his thumb over Steve’s cheekbone again, as he blushed even more hotly, bit his wet, slippery bottom lip.  “So _good_.  Aren’t you sweetheart?”

Steve went a slow, deep red, looking self-conscious, smiled a little even as he leaned forward, buried his face in the covers between Tony’s legs.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Tony said, and rubbed both hands through Steve’s hair.  Steve loved to be good, that was the thing.  He loved to be able to work for it, didn’t mind if Tony insulted him, liked to be humiliated, it made his dick bob and jump with every low-voiced jab, but at the end of the day, he just wanted to be Tony’s good boy when they were like this.  “You’re a good, sweet boy, and you work so hard for me.”

“Please,” Steve muttered, low, rough, into the blankets.  He was rolling his hips, helplessly, up against nothing; Tony thought he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.  Tony knew he wanted to come, wanted it desperately—Steve loved to orgasm, chased it in bed, ached to climax, struggled to be held back from his peak, especially since he could come so many times in one night, pretty much as many times as he wanted, as far as Tony could tell—but he wasn’t begging for that, hadn’t even mentioned it, though Tony knew how badly he had to be aching for a hand, for some pressure, for _anything_ on his cock.  He really was being a good boy, begging for Tony’s cock in his mouth instead, though Tony was sure Steve would appreciate any stimulation at this point, even the weight of a cock in his mouth, anything at all, at this point.

Tony knew Steve probably didn’t think he deserved Tony’s mercy, not in his heart, not yet, because Steve was like that, he liked to have to _work_ for it, so he just ran his hands down over Steve’s shoulders, firmly massaging the strong muscles, until Steve groaned, shuddering under his hands, even though his tense muscles hardly loosened at all.

“Please what, my jewel?” Tony asked, teasing.

Steve moaned, raised his head.  “Let me suck you, please,” he moaned, and opened his mouth.

It was such a beautifully submissive movement, and Tony couldn’t resist; he slid two fingers into Steve’s open mouth, fucked them in and out, pushed them back until Steve was choking, gagging, but he didn’t pull away, just pushed further into them, swallowing, his throat tightening spasmodically as he gagged and saliva spilled uncontrollably out of his mouth.

“Look at that wet, pretty mouth,” Tony purred, as Steve gagged on his fingers and didn’t struggle. Tony was still holding his own cock in his other hand, even as it throbbed with need at how Steve looked drooling and wet, lashes fluttering as his throat worked helplessly, his whole body struggling and twitching between Tony’s thighs, under his legs, even as he tilted his head back for Tony, let him slide his fingers in more deeply into his throat.  “Good boy, gagging on my fingers.  I bet you wish it was my cock.”

Steve nodded, moaning, gagging, more saliva bubbling up around Tony’s fingers as he fucked his fingers over Steve’s tongue, down his throat, and spilling over the sides of his mouth, dribbling over his lips.

“Oh, I know you do,” Tony told him gently.  “I know you do, pretty boy.”  He turned his fingers in Steve’s throat, watching him gag and cough, then pulled them back, dragging the pads of them along the top of Steve’s mouth, gentle over his soft palate, more firmly over the hard, before he let them rest there on Steve’s alveolar ridge, just behind his teeth, tilting his head back and up with a gentle push.  “Suck, sweetie,” Tony said, and Steve obeyed, closing his mouth and sucking even as he drooled helplessly around Tony’s fingers.

Steve sucked sweetly, earnestly, no fancy tricks or little stunts, just as straightforward and sincere and honest as you could want.  He wasn’t technically accomplished, maybe, didn’t really go in for any tricks, whether he was sucking Tony’s fingers or his cock, but there was something about that sweet, eager suction that never failed to make Tony’s stomach flip and turn over, tight want draw out tense in his belly.  It went straight to Tony’s dick, and he felt himself harden and throb in his own hand, like Steve was sucking it hard through his fingers alone.

He waited until Steve sounded more than a little breathless, gasping on every moan that bottomed out on a scratchy little grunt of a noise, and then he slid his fingers back out of Steve’s mouth and had the pleasure of seeing him chase after them, leaning forward and whining through his nose.  “Please,” he said again, a low scratchy whimper.  “Let me. Let me show you.”

“Aww, you’re doing fine,” Tony said, smiling, running a hand back through Steve’s hair, gripping the scruff of his neck for a moment and squeezing and then rubbing his knuckles over the top of Steve’s scalp.

Steve moaned. “Please,” he said again, looking up at Tony now.  “Please, Tony.”  He opened his mouth again.

“That’s a good boy,” Tony said, rubbing his knuckles over the back of Steve’s neck now.  “Keep begging, though, sweetie, that’s nice.”

Steve nodded and leaned forward again, sliding his open mouth over Tony’s knee and sucking wetly, gently.  It was a surprisingly erotic feeling, almost made Tony jump at how hot and wet it felt, how it sent sensation surging through his nerve endings, prickling through him, tingling up his leg to pool in his cock.  “Please,” Steve said again, against the top of Tony’s knee, after a moment, his breath humid and lips hot and wet, not bothering to move away. “Please let me have your cock in my mouth.”

“Yeah?” Tony asked, smiling, and petted his hand through Steve’s hair again, stroking heavily, in long, slow movements that gave Steve’s scalp a firm caress through his hair. “Why should I?  Give me a good reason.”

Steve bit his lip, made a helpless noise.  “I, I don’t know,” he said, sounding desperate.  “I, um.  I really want it.”

“But, peaches,” Tony purred, stroking Steve’s cheek with his thumb now, “you’re mine.  Why should I just give you what you want?”

Steve flushed, moaned hopelessly, turned his face in toward Tony’s knee again, closing his eyes as if to hide.  He was terrible at verbalizing things when he was spaced out like this, and Tony knew it, knew he was utterly hopeless at putting his thoughts into words in this state, but he also knew that Steve wanted Tony to make him sweat before he got any kind of relief or reward, and this was one of the best ways Tony knew of to do it.

“Because I want to please you,” Steve finally murmured, husky and rough and low, his voice soft, and damn, that went straight to Tony’s cock, hit him hard in his solar plexus, like a blow, too, made him ache warm and tender in his chest and Tony found himself blinking hard, just a little.  “Because I want to—to give you pleasure, with my mouth or my cock or however you want it.”  Steve shifted on his knees, looked down, pushed his cheek against Tony’s thigh, gasping. “I know I’m, uh, I’m not as good as you are at sucking cock,” he added, “but I promise that, that no one could be more dedicated to the task, of, of pleasing you, Tony.  I really want to make you come.  Please, let me use my mouth to please you.”

“You really are a good boy, huh?” Tony asked, still tracing Steve’s cheekbone with his thumb, and it came out soft, affectionate, even adoring, despite himself.  “I couldn’t ask for better.”

Steve flushed bright red and pushed his face down into the covers again, his shoulders hitching up self-consciously.  “Th-thank you,” he said, stuttering a little.

“That’s right,” Tony told him, and meant every word of it.  “Lovely and beautiful, and you try so beautifully hard.”  He slid his hand down, under Steve’s chin, and raised his head up, biting the inside of his cheek as he saw Steve’s face, red, brilliantly flushed, and messy from being pressed into the blankets, all smeared with spit and his eyes a little glassy and wet with what, with tears?  Watering from being gagged on Tony’s fingers? “That’s it,” Tony told him, his own voice low, “look at me, gorgeous.”  Steve swallowed, hard, convulsively, but he didn’t look away from him. Tony stroked his chin with his thumb, down along his jaw, came up and traced his cheekbone with it again, still cradling his jaw.  “That’s a good boy,” he said, and watched Steve swallow again, watched him shiver all over with a full body tremor, and he would have bet his cock had jerked at that. Tony held Steve’s jaw with one hand, scooted closer, just enough to use the other to trail his cock along Steve’s face, down his cheek, leaving a wet smear of precome over his skin.  Steve moaned, stiffened, opened his mouth, but Tony slid his thumb into it again, held his tongue down.  “Ah, ah, ah,” he said.  “I haven’t decided yet.”

Steve moaned, trembling under him, but he left his mouth hanging open obediently as spit pooled on his tongue, as Tony traced the tip of his cock over Steve’s forehead, shivering himself at the heat of Steve’s skin, over the eyelids Steve obligingly shut, his breath coming shorter in hot damp gusts against Tony’s thumb and wrist, down the other side, over the hot, waiting, empty space of Steve’s helplessly open mouth. That prompted a graceless, open-mouthed moan, but Steve didn’t struggle, even though he trembled all over, didn’t even try to close his mouth.

“Should I give you this?” Tony asked, finally pulling his thumb out of Steve’s mouth and tilting his jaw closed.  “Should I give you what you want?”  He let the head of his cock play over Steve’s soft, spit-slick lips, keeping his hand there, gently underneath Steve’s jaw, nudging him to keep his mouth closed. Steve obeyed, didn’t try to open it, even though he did purse his lips slightly, kissed the tip of Tony’s cock in a sweet, somehow innocent gesture that made Tony’s throat tighten, oddly, made his heart pound too hard in his chest.  Steve didn’t open his eyes.

“I would like it if you did,” he murmured finally, softly, and bit his lip. His breath feathered, hot, over the tip of Tony’s cock, and Tony shivered.  There was a bead of precome welling at the tip, just above Steve’s slick lips.  “But I—I—you decide, Tony.”

“That’s right,” Tony said. “And how do you feel about that, Steve-o?”

Steve flushed, looked down, shifted on his knees.  “I, uh,” he said, then coughed, cleared his throat roughly, awkwardly, and said, soft and barely audible, “Well, you know how I like it.  How much I want it.  Tony, I—I—please.  Sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tony said, and let his voice go warm, soft, encouraging.  He could see the way Steve’s face softened at that, blissing out, his mouth relaxing, going loose.  “That’s it,” Tony told him, softly, and wiped that bead of precome off on Steve’s bottom lip.  He could see the way Steve inhaled, sharply, trembled all through his body, but he didn’t try to get Tony’s cock in his mouth, not at all, stayed still and quiet. “That’s a good boy, such a good boy,” Tony purred at him, and stroked his hand through his hair again, petting a moment before he coaxed Steve’s mouth open with his thumb again.  This time, though, as Steve obligingly let his jaw fall open wide, Tony murmured, “cover your teeth, honeybunch,” and took his cock in hand, fed it between Steve’s lips.

Steve sucked in his breath, gave a long, eager, happy sounding moan, and looked up at Tony with gratitude in his shining blue eyes, something that made Tony’s heart seize and thump in his chest even more than the feeling of Steve’s hot wet mouth around his cock did.  He reached down, stroked his hand through Steve’s hair as Steve began to mouth and suck at his cock.

Steve’s blowjob technique was earnest and simple, just as earnest and simple and straightforward as his mouth had been on Tony’s fingers.  He mouthed and kissed at the head, then took it into his mouth and sucked. He used his tongue, but only intermittently, swirling it around Tony’s tip, laving it over him, teasing at the slit sometimes when Tony pulled back enough to let him get some air, gasping, heaving for breath in between.  It felt—well, it felt incredible, of course it did, and Tony had to squeeze his eyes shut, concentrate on staying upright, his hand gripping and massaging helplessly in Steve’s hair, but Steve, beautiful masochistic thing that he was, only groaned when Tony knew he had to be pulling.  Tony could barely think about it, could barely think about anything except Steve’s sweet, hot mouth, the suction on his cock, the way his gentle, exploring tongue felt against Tony’s slit, playing over him where he was most sensitive.  He could feel sweat start and trickle down the back of his neck, had to concentrate so as not to fuck his hips forward hard into Steve’s face.  Steve was moaning, sounding happy, and that more than anything sent pleasure jolting through Tony’s body, hot and hard and intense, not just from the vibrations around his cock, though that was amazing, but from the _idea_ of it, the thought that Steve was that happy to finally get his mouth around Tony’s dick.

Tony would have been content to stay just like that, let Steve suck at him with that desperate determination and rock his hips gently, slowly, into Steve’s mouth, letting him have plenty of time to give him those wonderful slow soft licks with his tongue, but Steve had other ideas, because it wasn’t too long before he was leaning forward and moaning, trying to get his mouth over more of Tony’s dick.  Tony gasped, tightened his fist in Steve’s hair, then got his other hand, wet with his own precome and the saliva Steve was dripping down his dick, to grab at his jaw, hold it still where Steve’s lips were wrapped around his dick just under the head.

“Shh, easy,” he murmured, and Steve gave a low, needy, desperate moan, looked up at him under his eyelashes.  His face was desperately flushed.

“You want me to fuck your throat?” Tony asked, gasping himself, trying to catch his breath and sound commanding, sure of himself, at the same time.  “You want to gag on it?”

Steve bobbed his head as best he could with Tony’s dick in his mouth, tried to lean forward, straining against Tony’s hands, even when Tony had to twist his fist in his hair to get the heel of his palm against his forehead, holding him back.  Wow, he was so damn eager for it, and Tony—Tony didn’t know quite what to do with that, how hot and dizzy and lightheaded it made him feel. Steve usually wasn’t all about giving head, not the way Tony was.  This was—it was a trip.  It felt kind of amazing.

“Okay, okay,” Tony said. “You want to gag on it.  G-good boy.  That’s a good boy.”  He shifted his hands, cradled Steve’s head between them, and then slid his dick out of his mouth, just a bit, letting the head play along Steve’s bottom lip as he opened his mouth, panting, looked up at Tony tragically, begging with his eyes, as if he thought Tony was going to pull out for real.  “Needy little thing,” Tony managed to gasp out, past the pleasure of Steve’s spit-slick lips rubbing along his cock right where he was most sensitive, rubbed his thumb against Steve’s cheek.  “Desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Steve actually _nodded_ , face brilliantly flushed, but eyes steady, fixed on Tony.

“All right,” Tony said, “all right.  My beautiful, needy sweetheart, aren’t you?”

Steve went even redder at that, lowered his eyes a little, sucked on Tony’s cock.

“Oh, Steve,” Tony sighed, “ _mio caro_ ,” and he pushed himself to the hilt in Steve’s mouth.

Tony had practiced for a long time to train his gag reflex so he could give a good blowjob, and he’d never had a strong one in the first place.  Steve did.  He had such a strong gag reflex, in fact, that it was hard to get past it no matter how desperately he wanted to deep throat a cock.  Tony wasn’t sure if it was a result of having been so sick as a child and a young man, or a result of the serum honing his every reflex to its peak capacity, or both, but he knew when he slid home in Steve’s mouth that he was going to gag, and sure enough, Steve did, instantly gagging and coughing as the head of Tony’s cock hit the back of his throat.  Tony’s immediate instinct was to flinch back, to pull out (to apologize, to beg Steve’s forgiveness for being so damn rough), but he didn’t let himself, and instead pulled Steve’s head closer, until he could feel him choking, his throat spasming, his lips pressed to Tony’s balls as drool spilled out over them.  He didn’t let go until Steve had stopped jerking and flinching his head back involuntarily against Tony’s hands and was just softly, wetly gagging on his cock, and then pulled back.

Steve moaned, swayed forward, and so Tony rubbed his thumb along his sweaty cheek and did it again, pushing into the back of Steve’s throat until he felt him start to gag.  His forehead was hot against Tony’s belly, smearing sweat along his skin, and his neck felt incredibly overheated under Tony’s hand, and it was amazing, almost wrong, how good it felt, the tight spasms of Steve’s throat around the tip of Tony’s cock.  He let himself keep doing it until he started to hear the breaths Steve was taking in through his nose heave and strain, and then pulled back enough so that his wet, spit-slippery cock was resting on Steve’s tongue and fucked the tip of it in and out of Steve’s mouth, grabbing Steve’s hair with both hands, as fast as he wanted to, as fast as he felt like it, until he came.

Steve didn’t struggle or strain or pull against his hands, not at all, he gave a long, luxuriant moan and pushed into it, swallowing and swallowing and sucking and sucking so that Tony’s climax didn’t seem to end for long, long, glorious moments, and then Tony gasped as it drove over the edge into oversensitive pain and pushed Steve away, falling back hard on his ass in the bed as he gasped for breath, still blinking brilliant stars out of his eyes.

Steve didn’t look away from him, eyes fixed on Tony the whole time Tony gasped and struggled for breath and tried to remember how to think straight, absently licking at the come that had escaped his lips and was trickling down the side of his chin. That in itself was hot enough that it made Tony’s cock want to throb again, even if there was no way he was getting hard for a long time after this, and when he had his breath back, he leaned forward, swiped it up with his thumb, and fed it to Steve, who sucked it softly, sweetly off his thumb.

“Gorgeous,” Tony said. “That was gorgeous.  You’re gorgeous.”  Steve smiled, almost shyly, lashes fluttering down over his eyes, and looked away.  “Nah, none of that,” Tony said, and took his chin, rubbed his thumb down along Steve’s jaw. “You are.  Now, you want to get up on the bed for me?”

Steve gasped a little, rocked back on his knees, on his heels, and said, his voice all rough and hoarse and raspy from choking, from having his throat fucked (from choking on _Tony’s cock_ ), “Please, Tony.”

“And I’ll give your ass a little attention,” Tony said, stroking his fingers down the hot skin of Steve’s still spasming, working throat, over his Adam’s apple, “and we’ll see how long it takes you to come just from that.  No rubbing off against the bed, all right?” 

And Steve’s lashes fluttered, and he said, all thick and hoarse, “Please, Tony, please.  Please.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Tony murmured, grabbing Steve’s shoulder and levering him up.  When Steve was down this far, it was like _please_ was the only word he knew, begging sweetly for whatever Tony wanted, and God, wow, Tony had put him down that far with teasing and a rough blowjob, and he still couldn’t believe Steve let him do this to him at all, “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

And Steve just sighed, his eyes fluttering closed, and pushed his face into Tony’s hand, and said, “Yes, Tony, please.”


End file.
